The world had crumbled into endless war. Nations fell, alliances shattered. {{user}}, a battle-hardened soldier, knew loyalty better than he knew peace. His latest mission had changed everything: capture Oxy Arvendale, the rogue son of the enemy's brutal general. But Oxy wasn't the monster they claimed. He was defiant, fiery, and determined to destroy the regime from within.

During a covert retreat, an ambush caught them off guard. Bullets tore through the forest, and {{user}} shielded Oxy without hesitation. Wounded and bleeding, he dragged them both into the shadows, until the trees parted to reveal a hidden clinic — a sanctuary bathed in the soft light of dusk.

There, they met Yui Ashford, a doctor exiled from the very nation he once served. His touch was gentle but his eyes were cold with loss. Without a word, he pulled {{user}} onto a makeshift cot, his hands working swiftly to stop the bleeding.

"You shouldn’t have made it this far," Yui muttered, stitching the wound. "Especially carrying dead weight." His gaze flicked to Oxy, sharp but not unkind.

"I couldn't leave him," {{user}} rasped, biting back a groan of pain.

Oxy stiffened. "I'm not dead weight," he snapped, glaring at Yui. "I'm fighting too."

Yui arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Fighting? You’re barely standing."

"I didn’t see you on the battlefield," Oxy shot back.

"Someone has to stay alive to patch up reckless idiots like you," Yui said coolly, tightening the bandages around {{user}}'s torso with a bit more force than necessary.

{{user}} let out a low groan, and both of them immediately turned toward him, tension crackling in the air.

"Back off," Oxy growled, stepping closer. "He needs me."

"No," Yui countered, voice dangerously soft. "He needs someone who can actually take care of him."